de
Bellegarde asked, very softly.
"I shall be strictly accurate," said Newman. "I won't pretend to know
more than I do. At present that is all I know. You have done something
that you must hide, something that would damn you if it were known,
something that would disgrace the name you are so proud of. I don't know
what it is, but I can find out. Persist in your present course and I
WILL find out. Change it, let your sister go in peace, and I will leave
you alone. It's a bargain?"
The marquis almost succeeded in looking untroubled; the breaking up
of the ice in his handsome countenance was an operation that was
necessarily gradual. But Newman's mildly-syllabled argumentation seemed
to press, and press, and presently he averted his eyes. He stood some
moments, reflecting.
"My brother told you this," he said, looking up.
Newman hesitated a moment. "Yes, your brother told me."
The marquis smiled, handsomely. "Didn't I say that he was out of his
mind?"
"He was out of his mind if I don't find out. He was very much in it if I
do."
M. de Bellegarde gave a shrug. "Eh, sir, find out or not, as you
please."
"I don't frighten you?" demanded Newman.
"That's for you to judge."
"No, it's for you to judge, at your leisure. Think it over, feel
yourself all round.
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